


Me Too

by Rinzler



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2267661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinzler/pseuds/Rinzler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How things really ought to have gone after the confrontation in Pike's office. Or, alternately, if Vulcans weren't so afraid of actually having feelings things would be a lot easier for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Me Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrokenDeathAngel on Deviantart](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BrokenDeathAngel+on+Deviantart).



They stride out of the turbolift, Jim in the lead. Spock can quite faintly detect the sheer amount of exasperation and slight annoyance radiating from his Captain. For a psi-null species, sometimes Spock wonders if perhaps Jim has a latent telepathic ability. Or very powerful emotions.

Spock believes it is the latter.

“Captain, I apologize about the report,” he says in a voice that is slightly rushed. It is imperative Kirk realizes that hurting him was not Spock's intention.

“Friends don't do that to each other, Spock! And I'm not your Captain anymore!” Jim shoots back heatedly, gesturing slightly with his arms, though they stay down by his sides for the most part. There's half a beat of silence before Jim lets out an aggravated sigh, and simply says “Aaagh. Forget about it, Spock.”

They walk a few feet further before stopping. Spock absentmindedly notices that they are inside but close to the entrance of the large space located just before the official Council Emergency Session room. There is a column to his left, and they are standing roughly three feet to the right of it.

Spock considers this absentmindedly because Jim has just rested a hand on his back, directly between his shoulder blades. It is surprisingly warm. This close, Jim's exasperation should be more apparent than ever. However, when he lowers his mental shields for a slight second, Spock finds nothing but a faint sense of melancholy overlaid with genuine, sweet concern, affection, and something that could almost be described as hope.

“Anyways...” Jim speaks slowly, shifting his weight slightly from left to right. He lets out a breath and turn to face Spock head-on, hand sliding from Spock's back to rest on the commander's right shoulder. “I'm...going to miss you.”

Spock stares at his Captain for a moment, attempting to keep as straight a face as possible. Jim's eyes are practically sparkling, the blue a mix between cerulean and and, oddly enough, an old-fashioned Terran sweet Nyota had insisted he try once. It had tasted of blue raspberry. There is a faint flush on his cheeks, and the light streaming in from the large windows- it is almost sunset- lightly halos his hair in a soft gold sheen.

Spock is seized by the sudden desire to do something- anything- if it means the Captain will always look at him like that. There is unbridled affection in his gaze, a sweet reassurance that says Jim is not actually going to stay mad at him. His smile is soft and gentle, only a slight pull around the corners of his mouth, yet it seems to radiate light of its own.

He is being rather poetic, Spock thinks. It would be prudent to stop such illogical thoughts.

It is then that he realizes Jim has been standing silently for several seconds now, face contorting between a hopeful smile and a grimace. He open his mouth. “I...”

Jim immediately perks up, smile widening but staying impossibly soft, not the brash, invulnerable one Spock has grown used to in the past year.

“Shall miss you too,” Spock concludes, his voice just slightly over a murmur but still loud enough to be clearly heard by Jim. He bows his head as he speaks, focusing his eyes at the floor before closing them briefly to rein in his emotions, then opening them and raising his head once more.

He finds that the distance between the two of them has shrunken down to less than nine point seven inches, and he honestly cannot recall if it has been Jim leaning forward or himself.

He can feel the slightest ghost of Jim's breath, just as he can, with impeccable detail, pick up on the faintest hint of pine needles and evergreen trees and possibly woodsmoke that seems to float around him like a constellation of a distinctly forest smell. He has only been close enough to Jim to realize these factors three times before.

“Oh, Spock,” Jim breathes, and it is only his superior Vulcan hearing that picks up the sound.

It's a small, slow, completely illogical movement, but Spock finds himself smoothly gravitating yet closer to the Captain, until only one point zero four three seven inches remain between them. Jim tilts his head ever-so-slightly to the right, and Spock naturally mimics him, both their eyes sliding closed.

Spock can feel the heat radiating off of Jim, at he is seized by the desire to take that heat for himself, to wrap himself in it, to coat it with his own body head to toe and burrow deep inside, never to resurface.

Their lips brush.

“First Officer Spock?”

The voice- belonging to an older earth male, approximately late 30s to mid 40s- lashes through the air with a stinging precision. It is so totally unexpected that Spock's eyes fly open at the same time as Jim's, and they both leap backwards, the space between them expanding to two point seven feet. Both whirl around to face the speaker, who continues smoothly. “Captain Frank Abbot, USS Bradbury. Guess you're with me.”

Spock considers him for six seconds, before finding himself turning to stare back at Jim. Two spots of color- a delightful shade of pink- stain the top of his cheekbones and his breath is two point four times faster than his normal respiration rate. Spock takes a breath and finds that his own breathing has increased in tempo.

“First Officer Spock?”

Spock looks back at the nameless Captain- he had not been listening as the man introduced himself- and takes half a second to compose himself once again.

“It would seem so.” He replies. Hastily tacking on the “Captain” at the end, almost like an afterthought, but the pause was too short for anyone except a Vulcan to have noticed. 

As soon as he says it, Spock cringes ever-so-slightly. The title feels wrong in his mouth for some reason, the knowledge that it is no longer Kirk he will be addressing using that rank weighing heavily on his tongue.

The Captain-who-is-not-his-true-Captain nods to Jim and moves on. After another painful second- of glancing back at Jim and wondering whether he should reach out to him and perhaps say something, a wish for good luck or the customary ta'al and farewell, only he feels it should be something more personal, now that the gravitational force between them has inexorably shifted and left him unbalanced, perhaps a Vulcan kiss but perhaps not, how can he find the words to express emotions he does not feel- Spock turns and follows him.

He is faintly aware of the sound of a soft curse being uttered under Jim's breath as he turn to head towards Captain Pike, that essentially amounts to why the universe is so concerned with messing with him and irresistible Vulcans only helping.

Spock tries his hardest not to smile at the illogic of it all.

**Author's Note:**

> INSPIRED BY: http://brokendeathangel.deviantart.com/art/Star-Trek-2013-Me-Too-380128172
> 
> You know you wanted this to happen. You know you did. And I also wanted it to happen. But I am also evil, so there will be no full-on makeout sessions. Sorry, but not really.


End file.
